Obsession
by Laela Wendel
Summary: Set in modern world. She never really let Wonderland go, even after she left Rutledge. It continues to change as Alice grows, and she starts to see characters she isn't "supposed" to see. I only own the plot and Trinket. I receive no money for this story.


The clock tickets incessantly. Her small hands tap the beat. Someone might think she is impatient, yet it is simply a distraction to keep her in the real world. Schizophrenia is no fun.

Alice works in a bakery. The Asylum had found her the job, and found her the flat in which she now resides. The smell of bread and sweet dough helps. Soon after, Alice began to understand what Wonderland always was: herself.

For years, she rotted away in that Home for the insane. For years, she ran away from her fiery past, an escape helped by various doses of Valium, Morphine, and anything else those nurses could find. When Rabbit finally reached for her (successfully startling her by talking through her stuffed rabbit) he gave her reason to stop running. No more hiding.

A trip though Wonderland, Vorpal Blade in hand, allowed for the hiding to come to a close. A conclusion to a road trip which should have been over long ago. Rabbit and Cheshire never really died. Only her thinking she needed help died. As she grew in strength, her helpers "died," forcing her self-reliance. Force always did work; always opens all the books.

Alice's leg starts to shake. Although 9 months had passed since her doctor-prescribed addictions to medicine had been vanquished (with help from more drugs, ironically), she still believed her jitters were small bouts of withdrawal. Or maybe she is just crazy.

"Don't think you are crazy, Alice, or you will become crazy."

"What if being mad is the only option."

"It's never the only option."

"You are annoyingly optimistic."

Snippets of conversations with her old psychiatrist fluttered through her mind, as it did everyday when she felt the steady slip to Wonderland occur. Soon, the memory of his steady voice was all it took to bring her back. Then, his voice disappeared and was replaced with her own.

"I thought hearing voices was a bad thing"

"Not if you recognize it as your own."

"What if my voice tells me to do silly things?"

"What silly things?"

"Silly like biting nurses and orderlies."

"Well, then you know it's not your voice."

He always seemed to know what to say; an annoying habit of his. Were her questions so easy, or did he just know everything?

A warm, soft body rubbed against Alice's legs. The brown tabby looks up at Alice with knowing yellow eyes. She smiled. His "knowing" was only the knowledge of being fed very soon. It was not a "knowing" such as knowing her soul. At least, not knowing her soul in any way other than an average cat would know.

"Trinket, you are a darling."

The cat's ears perked up at his name. Food?

Standing up from the rocking chair, Alice realized she was very tired. Not sleepy. Tired. Today will be a long day. The sound of a can opening brought her back to life. She didn't remember getting the can of cat food and certainly didn't recall turning on the can opener.

"I keep forgetting bits of time."

"Are you sure you are forgetting time?"

"Yes! I remember being in bed and now suddenly in in the room with you."

"Think hard on what happened earlier."

". . . The nurse brought me here after I had eggs for breakfast."

"Very good, Alice. If you forget time, take a deep breath and consider it again."

Damn that psychiatrist. Damn his level-headed logic. As Alice spooned the feline food onto a delicate dish, she realized how easy it had been to adapt his way of thinking. That man really helped her. She helped herself in Wonderland. He helped her in the Real World.

With Trinket contentedly munching on his meal, Alice sat back onto the rocking chair. It creaked as she pushed back and forth. Her eyes drifted to an overflowing bookcase. It made her happy. The rest of her flat was stiffly boring, the only bright colors being Trinket's toys and a red couch. All the money she had was either spent on Trinket or on books. Reading was the only escape.

"I would like a book."

"Alice, perhaps that is not a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Well, some say reading can be powerful. Reading a book can sometimes pull you into other worlds. Do you want to go to other worlds, Alice?"

"As long as I can get out easily. Putting a book down is not hard. If it was a good one, I might feel it was hard. But physically, I'm capable."

"How about this: I will get you a book. I'll help you put the book down if the cats or queens don't let you. Is that okay, Alice?"

"Perfect."

That one book turned into many. Now, her library extended beyond the walls of the shelves and piled on the floor in towers. Alice glanced around the room. Time to make a change. Today, she decided, she will buy a blue blanket for her bed. Blue to replace the gray.

Alice jerked when a chime rang through out the small room. It was a soft and happy chime; in no way foreboding. It signaled that it was time for her to go to work. After checking if Trinket has water, Alice left her flat.


End file.
